


Stats

by Ravenclawsome



Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: Dorks in Love, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 20:52:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2746637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenclawsome/pseuds/Ravenclawsome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As if it wasn't already hard enough to concentrate in stats class...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stats

Normally, Beatrice had little trouble paying attention in stats. Sure, it could be boring, but the concepts made sense to her, and she usually just worked through equations in class while her elderly teacher rambled on.

But today was different. There was a warm, tugging feeling in the middle of her chest that wouldn’t go away, and her lips still felt tingly. If all that wasn’t distracting enough, there was a boy sitting three desks to her right who occupied a fair portion of her mind at the moment.

Benedick. An uncontrollable grin spread across her face when she thought of his name. She glanced over at him, only to find that he was looking at her too. She smiled even wider, wondering how she could’ve ever convinced herself that she hated him.

“Beatrice?” She whipped her head around. Their stats teacher was staring at her exasperatedly. “I was hoping you could tell us all the answer to question nine? That is-” she looked over at Benedick, “if you’re not otherwise occupied.” Beatrice felt herself blushing. Blushing! Stupid uncontrollable reflexes. “Umm,” she fumbled with her notebook, trying to find the page where she’d written out the answer. “Uh, it’s 32?” she finally stammered. “Correct,” her teacher said. “Moving on…”

Beatrice tuned out again. She tried to bring her focus back to her homework.

She tried really hard. 

But almost against her will, her eyes darted over to Benedick again. He was chewing on the end of his pencil, like a dork, and frowning down at his work in an adorably frustrated way. _Adorably frustrated?_ Something was seriously wrong with her.

Benedick had caught her eye again, and he grinned at her, the pencil still between his teeth. Then, realizing what he was doing, he pulled the pencil out of his mouth so fast that he lost his grip and sent it flying across the room.

“Benedick Hobbes,” their stats teacher began, as Beatrice failed miserably to muffle her laughter. “Beatrice Duke, what has gotten into you two today?”

Neither of them said anything, staring down into their notebooks, smiling like idiots.


End file.
